When people are committed to division, they’ll find any excuse. And blood quantum? That’s one of the ugliest.

I saw a post today in a subreddit. Someone wanted to practice Norse Paganism so they joined a discord room only to get told they weren’t “Scandinavian enough.” The response in the subreddit was perfect:

“Anyone who tries to bring up blood quantum when it comes to the Norse faith, run far far away from. The gods do not care where you are from, they will call whomever they want.”

I agree. The gods call who they want. Spirit doesn’t care about your ancestry chart.

They called me where I was unwanted. They didn’t care who my parents were. They cared about my potential. I’m a wreck. I carry baggage from being neglected and unwanted… And they called me anyway.

The weirdest part about looking at this situation in the position I’m in, is that in the very beginning when I was first hearing the call to dance I tried to find a way to learn from tribal elders. There were none. I was told I had to be a member of the correct tribe to join the very large medicine people organization – and I’m not. (Their practice isn’t close to what I’ve learned of my people’s ways anyway except in some areas.)

That makes me just another casualty of the bullshit, really. Which might be why I have some thoughts on the matter.

Blood Quantum Is a Government Tool of Erasure. It wasn’t created by Native communities. It was imposed by the United States government, especially during the 20th century, as part of a calculated effort to “solve the Indian Problem”—a term they actually used to describe their goal of reducing Native populations, land holdings, and sovereignty.

Blood quantum laws were designed to define Native people by fractions, not by culture or community. They were used to limit who could receive federal benefits, land, or recognition. And they continue to fracture families and communities to this day.

According to the Native Governance Center, blood quantum is a concept rooted in eugenics and imposed by the federal government to disempower Indigenous people and separate them from their lands, cultures, and futures. It lacks any scientific basis and was calculated using flawed census rolls starting in the late 19th century.

I’ve been told I’m “not red” by my own father, who took it further to blows. I’ve been mocked, excluded, humiliated—especially by aunties. Isolated as I am from my tribe and through the mechanizations of the ‘tribe’ my parents joined, for a moment I thought I’d found a clan willing to adopt me. I tried harder than I ever had before. I showed up at a powwow with respect, with hope, with everything I had. And I was shut out. Humiliated.

DNA doesn’t prove culture. That’s not how this works. Culture is lived. It’s carried. It’s practiced. You don’t prove your belonging with a percentage. You prove it with your heart, your actions, your connection to the land and the ancestors.

So when someone tells me I’m not Native enough because of blood quantum, while turning around and saying Norse Paganism is open to anyone regardless of their heritage? That’s a double standard. And it’s spiritual hypocrisy.

Yeah. It bothers me just a little bit.

You can’t gatekeep spirit. Both Norse Paganism and Native traditions are rooted in ancestral reverence. Both have tribal structures. Both value kinship and ceremony. But only one is punished for mixed ancestry. Only one is told, “You don’t count.”

On a side note, I can be both.

How is that possible? I am after all a person who feels that there are those with dual ethnic backgrounds are using one background to overwrite the native american side while claiming pride in their native American heritage. I’m someone against that. The difference here is that taking up Norse Paganism or heathenry as a religion doesn’t overwrite my ethnic background, my ethnic alignment. Already in my practice, there are many things I have always done that have been incorporated – which is how culture works. Culture shifts and borrows. It adapts and changes.

It’s a spiritual path, and I walk it my own way while learning what I can from others. Either what I learn fits or it doesn’t. This is how it is where I come from. I promise you that the minute my husband tries to force me into his personal mold (again), I’m suddenly a wasp in his face. Don’t try to overwrite me. That’s not how I need to approach this.

For all that Norse Paganism is tribal, unless someone’s asking me to give up my tribal affiliation to join their kindred—unless they’re trying to have legal standing and sovereign governance—then it shouldn’t be an issue. Not that I don’t expect it to become an issue, as I’ve mentioned in a previous post.

Spiritual tribalism isn’t the same as political tribalism. One is about shared values, rituals, and mythic lineage. The other is about legal recognition, land, and sovereignty. They don’t have to clash.

Spiritual tribalism is rooted in shared mythic lineage, ritual practice, and the emotional resonance of belonging. It’s about the soul’s memory—how we recognize kin not by blood quantum or enrollment cards, but by the stories we carry, the spirits we honor, and the rhythms we move to. It’s fluid, intuitive, and often transcends geography or legal status.

Political tribalism, by contrast, is grounded in sovereignty, land rights, and legal recognition. It’s the framework that protects Indigenous nations from erasure, exploitation, and cultural theft. It’s necessary, structured, and often rigid—because it has to be. It’s the armor worn in a world that demands proof of existence.

These two forms of tribalism don’t have to clash. They serve different purposes. One nurtures the spirit; the other defends the body. One is a circle around the fire; the other is a line drawn on a map. Conflict arises when we mistake one for the other—when spiritual seekers expect political validation, or when legal systems try to legislate belonging.

But when held in balance, they can reinforce each other. Spiritual tribalism can deepen the meaning of sovereignty, reminding us why the land matters. Political tribalism can protect the sacred, ensuring that rituals and stories aren’t diluted.

We need both. And we need the wisdom to know when we’re speaking from the heart, and when we’re speaking from the law.

🧡 Stand Strong

If you’ve been cast out, told you’re not enough, told you don’t belong—you’re not alone. You are the ceremony. You are the medicine. The wyrd. You are the continuation of something sacred, even if no one dances beside you.

And if you’re one of the people using blood quantum to divide? You’re not protecting tradition. You’re perpetuating harm. When people start gatekeeping based on heritage, they’re not protecting culture—they’re enforcing division. And that’s not spirit. That’s policy masquerading as pride.